


I'm Holding On But I Won't Fall

by LunarAsylum



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcoholic Dean, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxious Castiel, Bartender Dean, Childhood Trauma, Depression, Drunk Sex, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Traumatized Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2235549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarAsylum/pseuds/LunarAsylum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas had always been a little on the unconventional side of things, especially since Dean was asexual. Cas, on the other hand, was not. From time to time, that made things a little difficult between them. Cas never expected it to spiral out of control when Dean decided he'd try to appease Cas' sexual desire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [In_Factorem_Verba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Factorem_Verba/gifts), [hanajimawashere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanajimawashere/gifts).



Dean could say he had the greatest relationship in the world, but he was pretty biased in that respect. He loved Cas with all of his being, and he could comfortably say that the other man felt the same. They had an understanding between each other about their idiosyncrasies that allowed things to just  _ flow _ . 

 

To be fair, as socially awkward as Cas could be, he was probably one of the only people Dean had ever felt comfortable with seeing him half-naked. Cas was too awkward to say anything about it to get Dean ruffled. Another plus was the fact that Cas never really asked about sex, which was a huge relief for Dean. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to go that far with anyone, even Cas.

 

Now you may be wondering why Dean thought and felt that way, and so was Cas by the time their first year anniversary rolled around. Yet, Cas never pursued anything, because even some of the slightest touches set Dean on edge and he didn't want to make things uncomfortable between them.

 

Cas didn't like confrontation, especially when it came to Dean. It made his anxiety swell over like a tidal wave, drowning him in panic and fear. Fortunately, Dean had never had to see that side of him, so both parties were as content as could be.

 

They functioned as well as anyone else did. Cas had a job as a software programmer for a small local organization that paid fairly well considering the company size. It kept him away from a majority of people, and most of his coworkers were friendly enough that they knew most of Cas' life story.

 

Dean, on the other hand, had one of the most social jobs you could have: bartender. He was the therapist no one knew they needed but greatly appreciated after a few drinks and staring into a pretty face. Dean used it to the best of his ability, as it helped him rack up the tips enough that he and Cas lived comfortably.

 

It did displace their schedules a bit, but with Cas being able to work from home most days, there was very little stress on their relationship, leaving Dean feeling content. It rarely impeded upon plans when they actually made them.

 

For that evening, they didn't have anything planned. Dean planned to make dinner before heading out for his shift that started at 10 and wouldn't end until 4AM.

 

“Did you want to watch a movie before I head out tonight?” Dean called from the kitchen. They had made Cas' office in the would-be dining room so that they could talk while Dean cooked or meandered about the apartment. 

 

“What movie did you have in mind?” 

 

“I have no idea. I just figured that we could actually do something. Utilize our larger-than-life TV for once,” Dean said, chuckling to himself. 

 

“That doesn't help, Dean.” 

 

This was a typical response from Cas on most occasions. It was almost as if he didn't want to make a decision and that made Dean smile a bit.

 

“I dunno, maybe somethin' Marvel? We could always watch The Avengers. You know how much I love the Avengers.”

 

“Personally, I think you only watch it for Loki.”

 

“Bull!” Dean retorted, leaning out of the kitchen and pointing his spatula at Cas. “I watch it for Loki  _ and _ Thor. Other people only watch it for Loki!”

 

“Whatever you say, Dean,” Cas responded, but a smile tugged at his lips. “And will you please not drop... the spatula.”

 

Cas was cut off mid-sentence as a clatter echoed from the kitchen and a 'dammit!' rang out from Dean.

 

“Shut up!” Dean called and Cas chuckled lightly at that. He knew Dean better than he knew himself sometimes. “Dinner should be ready in about 15 minutes, so if you wanna go ahead and grab the DVD and pop it in, I'm 100% okay with that. That is, if you're not super important busy right now.”

 

“I'll do that in a couple of minutes, Dean, I'm almost done,” Cas replied casually, rolling his shoulders and receiving a satisfying pop in response. He really did enjoy the aspect of being able to work from home and avoid most of the people. People caused anxiety. Anxiety was just... well, anxiety. There was no better way to describe it. 

 

Once he had finished up on the part of the project he was currently working on, he saved it to the company cloud drive and turned off his computer. Standing from the chair and stretching, he sauntered over to their expansive DVD case full of movies they'd mostly not watched.

 

Dean had organized it in alphabetical genre order, which made it infinitely easier to find movies. Finding The Avengers, he slipped the case from the rack, popping it open with a soft click and heading over to their Blu-ray player. Turning it on and popping the disc in, he went to grab the remote for the TV and pressing the power button.

 

He tensed momentarily when he felt a pressure on his shoulder, turning his head to see Dean's face and catching a burger in peripheral vision. Giving him a grin, he took his offering from Dean and the brunette kissed his cheek quickly before moving away so that they could settle themselves on the couch.

 

There was a little space between them on the couch, enough that someone might question whether their relationship was platonic or not, but they never thought about it. Dean flipped through the menu,and switched on the subtitles, before starting the movie. He set the remote down on the table, and picked up his plate, immediately digging into his burger.

 

“Good, huh?” he asked, raising his burger a little as he looked over at Cas.

 

“Always, Dean. I never understood why you didn't think about culinary school,” Cas responded, looking over at him. 

 

“Alcohol's more fun? I dunno, I just really enjoy my job at the bar. I always have,” Dean said, shrugging noncommittally. 

 

Cas couldn't argue or complain about Dean's job. It was a really good paying job, and they treated Dean incredibly well. Despite its calling, Dean rarely ever drank while working there, which was a big relief for Cas.

 

Cas couldn't stand alcoholics or people that drank excessively. To blind out the world that was occasionally worthwhile seemed pointless, and Cas prayed that Dean never sank that low. He knew Dean had lows, but fortunately enough, Dean felt secure enough in him that he would talk to Cas when he fell.

 

“Well, all I can and will say on the matter is that you have options now. You will always have options if something were to ever go wrong,” Cas said quietly, glancing at Dean from the corner of his eye. 

 

“I know,” Dean responded, turning to give him a smile. “And I keep that option open for desperate measures.”

 

Cas didn't offer Dean a reply, figuring it was best to leave it alone. He simply finished off his burger and stacked his plate on top of Dean's, before scooting a little closer to him. Dean didn't shirk from the contact and instead, surprisingly, draped his arm over Cas' shoulder, pulling him closer.

 

It was nice to have contact with Dean like this. Very rarely did Dean offer physical contact to him, and Cas almost always initiated the contact. It honestly made him curious as to whether Dean was truly interested in men at all, or at least, in him.

 

Cas wasn't a needy person, by any stretch, but he had learned certain expectations from previous relationships, and it was odd to not have those expectations looming over him now. Dean wasn't necessarily a prudish person when it came to discussing sex or anything sexual. In fact, Dean came off flirtatious most of the time, which was very odd to Cas.

 

He wasn't even sure how to breach the subject with Dean without coming off as though he was accusing the other man. Cas didn't even think there was a way to do that. So he took what he got without argument or complaint, because he was content and that's what he wanted for now. It was the closest he was getting to happiness right now.

 

Dean didn't know when, but Cas had fallen asleep against his shoulder at some point during the movie. He didn't want to wake him, but was unsure of how to move to get ready for work without disturbing his sleep. Several different ideas flowed through Dean's mind, but only one made enough sense to not disturb Cas.

 

Turning his body awkwardly, he managed to slide his arm between Cas' knees and the couch, and gripping his shoulder, he lifted Cas off the couch, settling him in his arms before heading towards the bedroom. Fortunately enough for him, Cas hadn't made the bed that afternoon after Dean had woken up, so it was easy to slip the smaller man beneath the blanket and cover him up.

 

He smiled as he looked down at his sleeping boyfriend, and he bent down to kiss his cheek, before turning and heading to their walk-in closet. He closed the door after flipping on the light, sliding hangers across the bar in search for something appealing to wear to work.

 

Cas' birthday was coming up soon, and he wanted to make sure he had enough money to take him out for a nice night out, since that was one of the few times that Cas really went out of the house for fun. Grabbing a nice pair of black slacks, a white button down and a simple black vest, and some underwear, he headed into their bathroom, shutting and locking the door before stripping down for a shower.

 

He finished his shower quickly so as to not be questioned why he locked the door. Once, Cas had chewed him out for locking the door in case something happened and then Cas couldn't get to him, but it made him extremely uncomfortable to not have the door locked. He dried off in a hurry and pulled on his underwear and pants before unlocking the door. He ruffled his hair with a towel, making sure it was closer to damp than sopping before pulling on his under shirt and button up.

 

He grabbed his bottle of hair gel, pouring a little into his palm and smearing it between both hands. Glancing in the hazy mirror, he tilted his head a little before running both hands through his hair, combing it backwards. Once he was satisfied with his hair, he brushed his teeth and washed his face before exiting the bathroom.

 

Cas was soundly asleep on the bed, and Dean smiled at him, pulling his vest on and button it up. Checking himself in the full body mirror, he smirked at his reflection, before grabbing his keys to his 2014 Chevy Impala.

 

Dean was proud of his car, since it was actually  _ his _ car. No one else paid for it, no one helped him get the car. He was proud of himself for getting a new car. As much as he would've wanted an older car, like a '67 Impala or even a '67 Shelby Mustang; hell, a '70 Chevelle would've been amazing, but he didn't nearly have enough money to fund purchasing one, much less maintaining one. He didn't want to get a car that he couldn't maintain properly. That was unfair to the car.

 

Dean's father, John, had raised him with a fierce love and respect of cars, and Dean had debated long and hard when he had finally saved up enough money as to what kind of car he was going to get. He figured a newer model of his dream car wouldn't be such a bad trade for what he could afford. So, he and Cas had gone to the dealership and he had bought his car, and then he'd scared the living daylights out of Cas by taking him for a drive.

 

Apparently, Dean wasn't the best driver in the world, if Cas was to attest to it. He didn't think he was that bad. He hadn't gotten any tickets... yet. Plopping down in the seat, he started up his car, reveling in the sound of his engine for a moment. She purred at him every time he started her, and he loved her for it.

 

“I know, Baby,” he said, running his hand along the wheel as he shifted into drive and took off for what he hoped was a good night at work. 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Cas' birthday! What could possibly go wrong?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank my loves In_Factorem_Verba and hanajimawashere, because they deal with my craptastic author-ship, and edit the awful first draft that is this story. *_*
> 
> Love you bitches.

“Happy Birthday, Cas,” Dean murmured into his ear, his arm draped over Cas' waist. “Now you're old.”

 

Cas grumbled at that, turning his head to look over at Dean.

 

“What are you doing up so early? You got in what... four hours ago?” he mumbled, sleep still heavy in his voice.

 

“Yeah, roughly, but it's your birthday, and I can't just let you have a crappy start, can I?” Dean asked, grinning as he kissed his cheek.

 

“I'm content enough just waking up with you next to me,” Cas replied honestly, causing Dean to blush a little. It still amused Cas when he could get Dean to blush.

 

“Enough of that, this day is about you! So... I made breakfast!” Dean said, grinning as he pulled away from Cas and sat up, stretching a bit. “So do you want it in bed, or in the living room?”

 

Cas couldn't help the slight perverse thought that entered his mind, but he brushed it away as fast as it came, rolling onto his back. “I'd rather not take the chance of getting the sheets dirty with food.”

 

“True,” Dean said. “To the living room! Get your ass out of bed; it's a day of celebration!”

 

Cas heaved a sigh as he stretched his body out on the bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment. He couldn't help but have a sense of sadness over this day, although he couldn't exactly place his finger on why. Cas had many reasons as to he might feel sad on his birthday, but he shoved them aside as he sat up, stretching his arms up, a string of pops following the motion.

 

Inhaling deeply, Cas arched his back, another series of pops greeting his ear as he exhaled slowly. Pushing the comforter down his legs, he pulled them towards his body and swung to his right, letting his feet touch the ground with a soft thump. He stood off the bed and ambled off towards the living room with a yawn.

 

“How are you going to survive today with next to no sleep?” Cas asked, arching an eyebrow. “You work tonight, right? The early shift?”

 

“Yeah, that's why we're going to have a rather mellow day at home,” Dean said, giving him a grin. “And you are not allowed to work today. One finger on your computer, I'll tie you down to the bed.”

 

“Is that a promise?” Cas asked with a grin, causing Dean to flush a little as he plopped down on the couch.

 

“Get your ass over here and eat,” he said, ignoring Cas' question as he leaned forward to pick up his plate. Cas admired the domesticated view of his boyfriend for a moment before taking his place next to him on the couch, plate in hand.

 

“Oh, look, you can cook something other than burgers,” Cas said, his mouth half-full with eggs as he looked over at Dean.

 

“Can you at least do me the service of talking with your mouth empty?” Dean asked, grinning slightly as he stuck a piece of sausage in his mouth.

 

Cas chortled after he swallowed his food, shaking his head.

 

“Sometimes, I have to wonder about your upbringing,” Cas said, not noticing the fact that Dean tensed a little at that.

 

“Why do you say that?” he asked, managed to force most of the tenseness out of his voice.

 

“Half the time you come off like you were raised in a barn, and the other half you act as if you were raised in the hospital and everything is disgusting,” Cas said, chuckling lightly.

 

“Maybe my parents had split custody and my mom lived in a barn,” Dean retorted sarcastically, grinning over at Cas, before the smile faded, and he looked down at his plate. “But... well, y'know.”

 

Cas had looked up at the sound of Dean mentioning his mother. There was one thing Dean never did, and that was talk about his mom. When he was incredibly young, his family had had a house fire caused by the Christmas tree his mother had insisted on setting up early every year. In attempts to get her sons out safely, she was left behind and had died in the fire, and Dean had somehow blamed himself for it. Their father had been out of the house at work, and came home to a very shaken and silent Dean holding a crying baby Sam.

 

Cas let a hand run over Dean's back, giving him a sympathetic glance as Dean stared in silence at his plate.

 

“I say we should fuck the quiet day at home and go out and do something,” he suggested, giving Dean a small smile. “And then we can come home around two or three and let you have a nap before work.”

 

“But that cuts in on your day,” Dean responded, looking up at him.

 

“And I'm the one who suggested it, so that's my choice, isn't it?” Cas said, arching an eyebrow at Dean.

 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Dean said, leaning back against the couch so that he could finish his food. The rest of breakfast was relatively quiet as they finished up and Dean collected their plates and silverware to go wash them and stick them in the dishwasher.

 

“How about you go get washed and dressed and then we'll head out, okay? I already took my shower,” Dean said, peering out from the kitchen. Cas blinked, but nodded and headed off towards the bedroom.

 

Their preparations to leave went by rather slowly as Cas took a lot longer in the shower than Dean did. After an hour and a half, they were both in Dean's car. Cas was gripping the panic bar for dear life.

 

“Really, Cas, you could relax,” Dean said, looking over at him as he started the engine. He let it idle for a moment, just to listen, not easing Cas' conscious at all.

 

“I'd be more relaxed if I were driving,” he responded after several moments of silence from him.

 

“It's your birthday, you shouldn't have to do anything but sit back and enjoy,” Dean said as he pulled out of the driveway, heading off towards his premade plans.

 

“The easy part is sitting back, in this car,” Cas said, looking over at him.

 

“Everything's easy in this car,” Dean said, grinning widely at him.

 

“Except ridding yourself of anxiety,” Cas muttered under his breath, looking away from Dean.

 

“I heard that, you shit,” Dean said, but his tone betrayed his words, letting Cas know he wasn't actually annoyed or upset by that. They traveled the rest of the hour and a half in silence, before Dean pulled up outside a rather nice looking restaurant.

 

“Dean? What are you doing?” Cas asked, arching an eyebrow as he peered over at Dean. “You know this place is only reservations.”

 

“And that's why we have a reservation, Cas,” Dean said, snickering at him. Blue eyes stared at Dean, dumbfounded, not sure of what to make of this.

 

“That takes months.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So you knew.”

 

“Obviously.”

 

“How did you even...?”

 

“Well, see, first thing was I made a phone call. Then I told them my name and gave them a date and a time and told them that I wanted the entire restaurant for this time frame, and they sounded more than happy to accommodate my request.”

 

“Shut up, Dean.”

 

“Hey, you asked,” he said, laughing at Cas as he waited for him to get out, and locked his car, pressing the button multiple times for extra measure. He didn't want anyone stealing his car. He gave Cas a smile as he took his hand, clasping it gently as they headed towards the entrance.

 

They were greeted at the door, which was held open for them, and Cas thanked the gentleman for the both of them. He didn't even know how Dean had pulled this off without his knowing. Generally,the brunette forgot everything in a matter of weeks. He missed doctor's appointment more than anything in the world. They were shown to a table of Cas' choice, as Dean had insisted, and seated.

 

“Thank you, Dean, I really appreciate this,” he said, his hands placed in his lap as he leaned forward a little. “You really didn't have to do this.”

 

“But that's the point of gifts, isn't it? Getting them even though you don't have to,” Dean said, giving him a gentle smile. “Besides, I've heard rave reviews about this place, and we're really just here for the food.”

 

“And you need a whole restaurant to enjoy the food?”

 

“If it's good enough, I do.”

 

Cas scoffed at that, though a smile crept its way onto his lips. He knew the real reason that Dean had requested the whole restaurant to themselves. Dean knew his anxiety around other people, especially when it was quite obvious they were together, exponentially increased the longer he was exposed. It was thoughtful moments like these that he knew Dean really did care.

 

Truthfully, there were moments that he really did wonder if Dean had any interest in him, or if he was just using him for some ulterior motive. Cas didn't want to think that of Dean, as it broke his heart to think of Dean that way, but he had been hurt enough to know that trust was the way to fall.

 

Their waiter greeted them shortly after and their date ensued like most dates. Conversation here, food there, and a little something sweet afterward. More conversation. Once Dean had paid for the bill, which he refused to let Cas see, he escorted Cas out to his car and they headed home.

 

The drive was uneventful enough that even Cas didn't feel absolutely terrified for his life. For once. When they got home, Dean immediately headed for the bedroom, Cas following after him.

 

“You going back to sleep?” he asked, watching as Dean face-planted onto the bed.

 

“I don't know. I think my body is just tired. I don't  _ feel _ tired, but I'm tired, if that makes sense,” he said, turning his face so his voice wasn't muffled. Cas approached the bed, sitting on the edge of the end of the bed.

 

“It does. I told you that we could take a nap together before you have to go to work,” Cas said, smiling down at Dean who rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his palm.

 

“Yeah, but that's just shitty, you know? I'd be up for cuddling until I passed out kind of thing,” he said, shrugging with one shoulder. Cas chuckled as he scooted up the bed and lied down to face Dean.

 

“That's sound like a good enough plan to me,” Cas said, smiling at Dean. His eyes scanned over Dean's face, just admiring how beautiful he really was. For a man, he had rather delicate features, but it really was just fitting for his normally gruff personality.

 

Cas leaned forward, planting a kiss on Dean's lips before rolling onto his back and raising his legs up enough to strip himself of his jeans. Tossing his jeans to the floor, he slipped beneath the covers and turned back onto his side, he found Dean already beneath the blanket, his back turned towards him. He scooted over, draping his arm over Dean's stomach, resting his chin on his shoulder.

 

“I love you,” he murmured next to Dean's ear, feeling Dean's fingers intertwine with his own. Dean's breathing felt steady, giving Cas a rhythm to focus on as he soaked in the warmth from the other.

 

“I love you, too, Cas,” he said, a smiling shining through his words. Cas felt the smile as Dean's ear shifted beneath his cheek. He was completely comfortable there for the time being, as Dean's breathing slowed and evened out after a half hour, alerting Cas that he had fallen asleep.

 

He remained next to Dean, relishing the contact that he was finally getting, feeling a little physically neglected. Cas was unsure of how long he had laid there next to Dean, but he shifted a little, feeling Dean's hand tighten around his. It made him smile a bit and he pulled his head back a little, planting kisses along Dean's clothed shoulder.

 

Cas wanted nothing more than to be intimate with Dean in more than an emotional way, and he knew that trying to get Dean to agree was cruel to him. He had no intents of forcing Dean, but he was starting to find himself willing to test his boundaries. Tilting his head, he kissed the side of Dean's neck, parting his lips a little to nip at the flesh.

 

Dean's fingers loosened their grip a little on Cas' hand, allowing him to extract his hand from Dean's grasp, and wander a little. In their year together, Cas had never been given an opportunity really see or feel Dean's bare skin other than what was normally exposed.

 

While it wasn't necessarily an open opportunity, he took it to let his hand slip beneath Dean's shirt, feeling the curve of distinct muscles beneath Dean's skin.

 

“Cas...?” he heard Dean mumble and he extracted his hand back to the outside of Dean's shirt.

 

“Sorry,” Cas whispered, his anxiety rising. “I just...”

 

“No, don't. Don't apologize,” Dean said, sleep still a little hazy in his voice. “Just... I can't. I know you want to, I do, but I can't. I'm asexual.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean had left for work with very little to say after their very awkward conversation about his sexuality. The brunette had never mentioned it before, and there seemed to be no reason behind it. He just _was_. Cas was trying to wrap his head around it, he truly was, but he was having great difficulty understanding how someone could be with another romantically but not intimately.

 

Heaving a weighted sigh, he drug himself over to his computer and decided to do a little research on the topic of an asexual person. He wanted to be able to understand Dean's feelings and sexuality, and to be able to support him properly without agitating nerves. Scrolling through page after page, he found most of them consisted of the same explanations.

 

Mostly, they spoke of how asexuals were just as emotionally dependent on relationships as much as someone who was sexually active was. It just wasn't correlated to sex, and it didn't demean their emotions just because they had no sexual desire. The most fascinating part for Cas was reading about their range with the idea of the label of asexual.

 

How some asexual people felt little to no sexual attraction or arousal at all, while others could feel arousal or even sexual attraction, but felt no impulse to act on it. It was truly a fascinating read for Cas, and he was hoping that Dean would be willing to sit down and talk about it, just so he could know where Dean was at and what he wanted to officially establish as boundaries.

 

Looking over at the clock, Cas was surprised to see that it was nearly one in the morning, rubbing his eyes as he suddenly felt the heaviness of his eyelids. Dean was supposed to be off in an hour and Cas debated whether or not he wanted to stay up and greet him when he got home. Setting his idea in stone, he turned off his computer and headed into the bedroom and to his bookshelf. Scanning through the various books that he had, he grabbed one that he had read multiple times, figuring that easy reading would be enough to pass the time quickly.

 

He switched on the lamp beside his bed, moving back to the light switch across the room and turning it off. Burying himself beneath the covers half-way, he settled his book on top of the comforter and sank into the throes of a literary adventure. However, he didn't make it until Dean returned home, dozing off an hour and a half later.

 

Dean wasn't home by then either, and when Cas awoke late in the morning, finding his lover's side of the bed still empty, he was incredibly concerned. Scrambling out of the bed, he grabbed his pants on the floor, digging his cellphone out of the pocket and dialing his boyfriend.

 

“'Ello?” came a heavily slurred voice at the end, causing shock to run through Cas' veins.

 

“Dean?”

 

“Oh! 'Ey, Cas! Wazzup?”

 

“Where are you? It's 9:42, Dean. You got off at 2,” he said, his voice hardening despite his attempts to keep his voice level.

 

“Wha? Oh, I stayed an' had some drinks. A lot'a drinks, actuallary.”

 

“What?” Cas asked, Dean's words slurring so much that he couldn't understand him. “Where are you, Dean?”

 

“Like... three...? Yeah. Three. Three away.”

 

“Three what, Dean?”

 

“Blocks, silly!”

 

“You're walking?!”

 

“Can't very much drive like this!”

 

At least Dean had that much common sense.

 

“What street are you on?”

 

“Calallahan.”

 

“You mean Callahan?”

 

“Yeah, that one.”

 

“I'm coming to pick you up, sit down and stay there.”

 

He heard a grunt on the other end of the line as it seemed Dean was now sitting down.

 

“'Kay. I'm waitin!”

 

It took every bit of patience that Cas had to not just hang up on Dean and scream, but his concern managed to override his fury at his boyfriend as he headed out the door and to his car. He kept Dean on the line, just to make sure that he was still conscious and breathing until he saw the man plopped down in someone's yard about four blocks down the road.

 

“Get in. Now,” he said, rolling down the window, watching as Dean swayed while sitting down and struggled to get up. Once he was on his feet, he wobbled to the car and slouched down into the seat next to Cas.

 

“Sorry... I didn't call, I know,” he said, his words still slurred, but it seemed the phone had made it worse than it was.

 

“Not only did you not call, Dean, but you're walking around wasted at 10 in the morning. What the fuck were you thinking?!” Cas said, looking over at him for just a moment, his frustration with Dean leaking.

 

“I was thinkin', Cas, that you were mad with me, because I wouldn't let you fuck me,” he said bluntly, his head lolling against the head rest as the car turned into their driveway. “And I very much dislike it when you're mad with me, especially cause this isn't somethin' I can fix.”

 

Cas frowned at that as he put his car into park and turned it off. He turned to face Dean, sighing.

 

“Dean, you're not something that needs to be fixed. _That's_ not something that needs to be fixed, okay? I just wish you would've told me sooner,” he said quietly, Dean's eyes averting from his face.

 

“Well, I feel like I gotta be fixed,” Dean mumbled, and Cas leaned forward, his hand gripping Dean's chin and making the man look at him.

 

“Dean, stop it and look at me,” he said after Dean kept averting his eyes. “I don't want you to feel pressured. I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything, and I, most certainly, don't want you to do something you don't want to do. Do you understand the words I'm saying to you, Dean?”

 

“Yeah, I got it,” he said, his eyes hazy as he tried to focus on Cas.

 

“Good. Now stay in your seat and I'll get you out,” he said as he opened his door and closed it gently, moving to Dean's side and helping him out of the car. Wrapping an arm around his waist, he let his lover use him as a stabilizer to get back inside and to the bed.

 

“Alright, you sleep, and let this pass over you, okay? I'll be in the living room if you need me, okay?” Cas said, as he partially tucked him into the bed.

 

“Yeah, babe, I got it,” Dean said. “You are a wonderful almost-husband.”

 

Cas blinked at that, not sure exactly how to take that statement and he just leaned over to kiss Dean on the forehead, but the man grabbed his shirt as he went to rise and pulled him down for a kiss.

 

“Love you,” Dean slurred, releasing Cas' t-shirt, his eyes fluttering closed as he slowly sank into unconsciousness. Cas swallowed thickly at that, not sure exactly how to interpret a drunk Dean. The last few years that he had known the brunette, he had never seen him quite this drunk. He had seen him tipsy and he had seen him buzzed, but never more than that.

 

It set his nerves on edge, as he had often heard that alcohol released your inhibitions and allowed you to express yourself as you often wouldn't. He felt as though he was seeing two different people at that point, and he sighed, forcing himself not to dwell on it.

 

He settled in at his desk, figuring the best way to preoccupy himself was to do work. It didn't take him long to lose himself in the coding for the latest program that he was working on, spending the next couple of hours, typing away and rechecking his work. Getting up from his seat to stretch, he decided to go check on Dean who was still sound asleep, and he decided to grab a glass of water and some Tylenol for when he woke up.

 

His footsteps were dulled to soft whispers as he padded across the living room and into the bedroom, setting down the glass on Dean's nightstand. Carefully, he set the bottle down, making sure not to tilt it so it wouldn't rattle. He felt a familiar discomfort in his chest as he looked down at his sleeping boyfriend, willing himself to maintain calm breathing as he turned and exited the room.

 

They had never really had a disagreement like this. There had always been a sort of calm and ease about their relationship, and he was wondering if the waters had finally been stirred. Now, the beast lurking beneath the waters was awake and ready to roar its ugly head. It terrified Cas to know that this could disrupt everything he had come to rely on for sanity.

 

Inhaling deeply, he balled his fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself calm, the minute pain bringing him back down to Earth. Willing back the tears that welled up in his eyes, he ran a hand over his face, before moving into the kitchen to make himself something to eat. It was already past noon and he'd had nothing to eat that entire day.

 

About an hour later, Cas finally heard rustling from the bedroom, and then a cracked voice called his name. Biting the edge of his lip, he got up and entered the bedroom to see Dean nursing the glass of water that he had set in there for him.

 

“Thanks for the water,” he mumbled against the lip of the glass, his eyes averted to stare at the water in through the clear glass.

 

“You were pretty drunk, so I figured you'd wake up dehydrated.”

 

“Don't. Don't use that logical bullshit, okay?” Dean grumbled, moving to set the glass down. “I'm not stupid, and I know you're upset, and you're stressed, okay? But we've gotta hang up the dirty laundry now.”

 

“Dean--”

 

“No. I'm not done talking.”

 

Cas looked at Dean's face, green eyes greeting him fiercely, freckles standing out against his pale skin.

 

“I know we need to talk about things, okay? I owe you explanations, and I also know... that my not coming home last night didn't help things, so I don't want you to ignore it. I don't want you to ignore things that are difficult anymore, Cas, because that's all you do. I watch you do it all the time.

 

“And I know, it's anxiety, and I'm not saying you have to do it for other people, but I want you to face it for me, because I think I deserve that much.”

 

“Why do you think you deserve that much?” Cas said before he could stop himself, and he almost regretted saying it. Dean looked taken aback by the question and he shifted uncomfortably on the bed, looking down at his hands on the comforter.

 

“Because I've been more open with you than I have with my own family, Cas. Hell, my dad doesn't even know you exist and he thinks I'm off banging some hookers or some shit, I don't know. My brother... Well, Sammy doesn't really care, but he doesn't necessarily approve either. It makes him uncomfortable, so all I've got is you. And I don't really got you if you can't be forward with me.”

 

Cas let that sink in for a moment, finding no faults with Dean's logic. It was true that the brunette never really talked to his family. Occasionally, Sam would give Dean a call to talk to him about his girlfriend, or fiance, now, but Sam never really asked about Dean's life. John didn't talk to Dean at all, and outside of them, he really didn't have friends. He had his regulars at the bar and his co-workers, but none of them knew him intimately outside of work.

 

He calculated his choices of things to say in response to Dean, sitting down on the edge of the bed and glancing over the lump beneath the blanket of Dean's legs.

 

“I'm sorry, Dean,” he said after a few moments. It seemed they were both in the wrong, and he hadn't even considered that maybe he had been handling all of this wrong. There was a moment of silence between them, before Cas spoke again.

 

“I did some research yesterday,” he said, not catching the confused expression on Dean's face. “About asexuality.”

 

“Oh,” Dean responded lightly. “And?”

 

“A few things, really. We've never really established boundaries, or limitations. You've kind of insinuated what you're comfortable with, and I've kind of just let you do what you wanted, because I figured that's what made you happy,” Cas stated, his tone slightly vulnerable. He didn't know how to have these kinds of conversations. Most of the time, it just seemed so... understood to him.

 

“Anything else?”

 

“Well.. the website talked about the spectrum.”

 

“Spectrum?”

 

“The varying degrees of asexuality. From no sexual attraction or arousal, to having sexual attraction and arousal, but no need and/or want to act upon it.”

 

“Why is it every time we, somehow, discuss sex, you turn into a walking dictionary.”

 

“What?”

 

“You get all...stiff. I don't know how to describe it, Cas, but you go from talking like we're dating, to talking like you're my teacher and you're here to educate me. I don't think you need a website to tell you about me. That's why I'm here.”

 

Cas was silent at that. The silent lasted a few moments before he grew the nerve to speak.

 

“You didn't seem like you wanted to talk about it.”

 

“That was primarily because you seemed too flustered to talk about it. Cas, you looked positively horrified when I woke up, as if though you thought I'd accuse you of trying to, I dunno, rape me or something, and that I'd want to end it right then and there.”

 

Cas said nothing to deny or accept those assumptions since he didn't want to sink his own ship. Dean was exactly right. He had feared that his boyfriend would be upset with him for just... exploring, and it had been a horrible thought for him. The last thing he wanted to do was lose Dean over something so stupid.

 

“And then, after you had calmed down and we still weren't talking, I figured you were upset at me for not having told you before then. And frankly, you had every right to be mad at me. I should have told you over a year ago.”

 

Cas looked up at him at that, his brow furrowed.

 

“I have no right to be mad at you for something like that.”

 

“Really, Cas, because you're not fooling me. Whether you have the right or not, you _are_ upset.”

 

Cas' lips tightened at that, and he forced himself not to look away from Dean at that comment.

 

“I just don't understand.”

 

“What part don't you understand?”

 

“All of it, I guess. I mean. I understand what it is, what it means, and so on, but I don't understand _why_.”

 

“That's a far more difficult topic to expand on. It's damn near impossible to understand unless you're asexual. I just don't want to have sex, but that doesn't mean that I don't love you. I... I don't know, but maybe, someday, I might be comfortable with the idea of trying... but it's not right now, and I'm sorry. I'm completely open to the idea that if you _need_ to you can—”

 

“Can what?”

 

“I was getting there, Cas. I was saying that you can, if you want, go find someone to satisfy your sexual desires. I'm open to that, because I shouldn't be someone that holds you back from your own desires.”

 

“You're a fucking idiot, Dean.”

 

Dean looked confused and little angry at that comment as Cas scooted closer to him.

 

“I'm not going to go fuck some stranger just because you don't want to. That's not what a relationship is supposed to be about, and I don't want you to think that it is, you understand? I love you, all of you. That means the good, the bad, and the sexually inactive part of you.”

 

Dean snorted at the last part, before groaning a little and placing a hand against his head.

 

“That was a dumb thing to do,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his temples with his fingers, before letting his hand rest on his lap. “I love you, Cas.”

 

“I love you, too, Dean,” Cas responded, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Go wash your face and I'll make you breakfast. How does cereal sound?”

 

“Better than anything else you could offer me.”

 

Cas was an awful cook and Dean would've threatened to hog tie him to the bed if he had suggested letting him near the stove. The brunette offered Cas a smile as he climbed off the bed and headed towards the bathroom, hearing him hop off the bed and exit the bedroom. Dean splashed water over his face, glad that he had managed to avoid a very uncomfortable conversation.

 

He was really just glad that Cas hadn't tried to pry a deeper meaning from him, because that dredged up too many bad memories and thoughts for Dean to really control himself and think about. Releasing a yawn, he pushed his hair back from his face, staring at his complexion. He was pale, and pasty, presumably from his heavy drinking that early morning.

 

Dean fetched the glass of water from his nightstand and headed into the living room, where a bowl of cereal on the coffee table, waiting for him. He plopped down next to Cas, leaning forward to grab the bowl, taking slow, small bites so as not to upset his sensitive stomach. He was pleased that most of the windows were covered so that very little sunlight glared into their home. At least he wasn't being blinded and split in half from the head down at the same time. He was thankful to have that evening off, since it meant that not only could he and Cas spend some quality time together, but he didn't have to go into work hung over.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little... crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've officially gotten to the point of my writing that I'm so conflicted on what mood I'm in to write what, so I'm just going to update as I please and can. Or else my brain will explode and I'll cease to exist. I need this new season of Supernatural anyway. Happy October 7th folks <3

It was a month before Dean's next drunken extravaganza happened, but this time it didn't bother Cas quite as much. He had been sleeping soundly, when a rather loud, slurred voice had burst through his unconsciousness, waking him with a jerk.

 

“Dean... what the hell?” he asked, sleep dragging his voice as he rolled his upper body to face Dean. What he was greeted with was shocking in more ways than one. The brunette was completely nude, his legs folded beneath him as he stared down at Cas.

 

“Let's fuck!” he slurred out, leaning forward to place a rather sloppy kiss on Cas' lips.

 

“Dean, what the fuck, you're drunk,” Cas growled, pushing him back.

 

“Yes, I am, and I'm aware of that, but y'know what? I wanna fuck you. Or you can fuck me,” he said, his face merely inches away from Cas' face. “I've always wanted to fuck you, though.”

 

Dean didn't give Cas a chance to respond as he pushed the man completely onto his back and straddling his hips. He gyrated his hips downwards as he leaned forward to kiss his boyfriend again.

 

“C'mon, baby, let's fuck,” he mumbled against his lips, nipping at Cas' bottom lip. He placed his hands on Dean's chest pushing him away from him for a moment.

 

“Dean, I don't what to have sex like this,” he said, his brows furrowed as he looked up at Dean's face, which fell.

 

“Why? Am I not sexy enough?” he slurred in question, his hips having stopped moving by that point. “Do you not want me?”

 

“What, no! But you're drunk, and I'd much rather have you sober.”

 

“I can keep my mouth shut.”

 

“Dean, that is so not the problem here,” he said, inhaling quickly. He willed patience into his words. “How much did you have to drink?”

 

“I dunno, but my co-worker gave me a ride home, so that happened,” he mumbled, falling off topic. He shifted his hips forward a little, and both of them could feel that Cas was aroused by this, even if he didn't want to be.

 

“Dean...”

 

“Come on, Cas. Do this for me. I want to, so let's just do it,” Dean said again, his words jumbled together, but not badly enough that Cas couldn't understand him. The brunette leaned down to kiss him again, seemingly a little more steady in his actions as his hands slid beneath the hem of Cas' shirt.

 

The blue-eyed man couldn't say no at that point, his eyes fluttering shut as he let his hands run down Dean's chest, finally having the chance to explore the other's body. It was so much better than what he had expected, a few scars accenting the otherwise smooth and firm flesh of Dean's abdomen.

 

He breathed in through his mouth once Dean had left his lips for something better as he pushed Cas' shirt up, his mouth starting at his navel. Dean swirled his tongue over the smooth, tan flesh, invoking a gasp from him as his hands occupied themselves elsewhere.

 

“Shit, Dean,” Cas whispered as Dean's mouth slowly traveled upwards, making his way to one perky nipple. He grazed his teeth over the nub, enjoying the hitches in his lover's breath every time he did. Letting his tongue play with Cas' nipple for a moment, he let one hand travel southward towards his boxers, finding what he was looking for with ease.

 

Without hesitation, Dean pressed downwards against Cas' cock, soliciting a groan from him. Plump lips smirked as he tugged on his nipple with his teeth, feeling Cas' cock twitch against his hand as he released the nub and looked up at him, green eyes vivid and eager.

 

“So what do you want? You wanna fuck or be fucked?” he asked, his face bright red, only making his green eyes pop out more. Cas didn't answer him by mouth, but instead switched their positions with ease, pressing Dean into the bed as he kissed him heatedly.

 

Dean released a groan of longing as Cas let go of the kiss, his mouth choosing to make its way down the brunette's body. He arched his body up against his partner, wanting more than just a mouth touching him. Pulling away for just a moment, Cas let his hand wrap around Dean's dick, eliciting a moan from the man as he stroked him.

 

“You're sure about this?”

 

“Are you really stupid enough to ask?” Dean growled at him, looking down his chest at Cas. “Just fuck me!”

 

Cas lived only to fulfill to Dean's demand at that moment, sliding away from him for just a moment to grab lube and a condom. As much as he'd have loved to forsake both things, he'd rather not for Dean's sake, drunk or not. Stripping himself of his boxers, he tossed them to the floor as he returned to his previous position, straddling Dean's thighs.

 

He made quick work of opening and working the condom onto his erection, before taking the bottle of lube into his hands and moving so that he could spread Dean's legs and moved between them. The brunette propped himself up on his elbows so that he could watch, his eyes half-lidded as he watched Cas. Smearing lube between three of his fingers, he shifted forward, letting his hand fall south.

 

One finger pressed against Dean's ass, earning a groan as it entered him. Cas moved as quickly as he could without hurting him, stretching until he deemed him ready. Pulling his hand away, he grabbed the lube bottle again, squeezing a generous amount into his hand. Dean was still watching him intently, biting his lip as he watched Cas stroke his cock languidly.

 

“Hurry up,” Dean grumbled, looking up from his hand to his face. “Don't tease me.”

 

Cas chuckled lightly at that and released himself to grab Dean's thighs. He pushed them back until he had his legs resting over his shoulders, and he gripped the base of his cock, positioning himself at Dean's entrance.

 

Slowly, he pushed his hips forward, feeling resistance at first, but with enough pressure he pushed into Dean, a low groan erupting from his mouth as he pulled back a little bit. Swollen lips moaned for him as he pushed forward again, starting a short and slow rhythm to let them both adjust to this.

 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean groaned, resting back on the bed now, his hands gripping the sheets into balls. It didn't take much for him to ask for more, his hips shifting ever so slightly when Cas moved into him. He took that as his cue to fuck him harder, putting more force into his thrusts.

 

Dean moaned at that, and Cas leaned forward to silence him with his mouth, letting his tongue battle with Dean's. His hands gripped his lover's thighs for stability as he fucked him faster, finding his rhythm in this position. Dean's mouth tore away from Cas' in a moan, his back arching slightly off the bed. The shorter man grunted against Dean's shoulder, his hands gripping tighter has he got closer and closer to the edge.

 

It didn't take much more for Cas to come, moaning into Dean's chest as he did, his hands sliding down the back of his thighs to the bed. Pulling himself out, he let one of his hands encircle Dean's cock, stroking him as his other hand peeled off the condom and tossed it to the floor.

 

Dean groaned as Cas thumbed the head of his dick, smearing the opaque substance there. The shorter man grinned as he watched Dean's entire body, muscles flexing beneath the skin as he inched closer and closer to the edge. He knew it wouldn't be too long until Dean jumped off, sinking into the raging river of an orgasm.

 

Dean's eyes rolled as he came into Cas' hand, a stuttered moan leaving his mouth. Cas was still working on slowing his breathing, as he looked down at Dean's body which as dirty as his hand was. He grinned widely as he leaned up to kiss him, who's eyes were closed, his breathing heavy.

 

“I love you,” Cas murmured against his lips, kissing him again, before sitting up and grabbing Dean's hands to pull him up. “C'mon, let's get you cleaned up.”

 

Still aware that the brunette was still drunk, he led him into the bathroom and to the shower. He sat Dean down on the toilet, before turning to turn the shower on. Once the temperature was satisfactory, Cas got him up and helped him into the shower.

 

It was a quick, half shower, primarily for getting Dean's chest clean, and his whole body was flushed with the heat from the shower and from the alcohol.

 

“I love ya, Cas,” Dean said as Cas helped him out of the shower, grabbing the towel from the rack beside them. He dried off his body, before walking him back to the bed, where Dean fell, face first into the pillow.

 

Cas tucked him in on the outside of the bed and circled it to join him. He pulled Dean close to him, kissing his shoulder.

 

“Sleep well, Dean,” he murmured, not sure what things would be like in the morning.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

When Dean awoke the next morning, he had a vague sense of wrongness about the setting. Cas wasn't next to him when he woke, which was always normal, but the fact that he was devoid of clothing, had a pounding headache, and a very powerful wave of nausea sweeping over him wasn't.

 

Hastily, he untangled himself from the bed and barely made it to the toilet in time, retching a few times before the nausea slightly lessened. He moved to close the bathroom door and lock it, his eyes hardly open as he moved back to the toilet, taking a seat beside it for the inevitable waves of nausea that would take him for the next couple of minutes.

 

After what he hoped was his last bout of vomiting, he heard Cas knocking at the door.

 

“Are you alright, Dean?” Dean heard him say, and he groaned, flushing the toilet and wiping his mouth.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I'll be out soon. I just gotta brush my teeth,” Dean said, not willing to exit while he was naked.

 

“Okay,” Cas responded and he heard him walking away. The brunette ran water through his hands, splashing it up onto his face as he stared at his reflection. He had to assume that they had had sex last night, simply because he doubted naked cuddling was a thing.

 

He also had a very innate feeling that letting Cas know he didn't remember last night was a very bad idea. Frankly, he was happy for the gift of not remembering what happened, even though his body did. Swallowing back the feeling of vomit, he brushed his teeth quickly, wanting to get dressed as soon as possible.

 

He escaped the bathroom to the closet, and shut the closet door so that he could get dressed in peace. Once he was clothed, he left the closet and headed out to the living room, where Cas seemed to be radiating from the couch. Dean had never seen him quite that happy, and he knew that he had to keep his mouth shut about the details of last night.

 

His eyes scanned the floor where a trail of the clothing he had been wearing led to the foyer in front of their door. Apparently, he had been really horny last night to just strip on his way to the bedroom.

 

“I'm sorry about waking you up last night,” Dean said as he took a seat on the couch next to Cas.

 

“You're seriously apologizing about last night?” Cas asked, arching an eyebrow as he looked over at Dean.

 

“Not for the events, no, but for waking you up. Especially seeing as you have a lot of work to do today,” Dean said and Cas laughed at that.

 

“I'm pretty sure I'm okay with working a little longer than normal today because of last night,” he said, beaming over at Dean. He kissed the younger's cheek, his hand moving to take his. “So exactly how much did you have to drink last night?”

 

“I don't remember it being that much. Mostly shots, probably around 5,” he lied. “It was a co-worker's birthday, so I opted to stay after my shift ended to celebrate with them.”

 

“No real complaints here,” Cas said, squeezing Dean's hand. The brunette offered him a smile. “Did you want something to eat?”

 

“I'm not sure I could stomach it,” he said quietly, still feeling the after effects of nausea. “I'll eat when I feel a little better.”

 

The raven-haired man nodded at that, not forcing the idea of food. They had established previously that Dean couldn't stomach a lot when it came to being hungover. The nausea that currently made him feel as if he were swaying was also egged on by the feeling of anxiety that came with the worry of Cas wanting to discuss the previous night.

 

He didn't think he could handle trying to fake happiness in what he could only imagine was the night's events. Running a slightly shaky hand over his face, he willed his stomach and heart to calm down, but another bout of strong waves overtook his stomach, having him run off to the bathroom to retch again.

 

The older man frowned, his face overcome with pity as he debated between following Dean and remaining on the couch. Following Dean became his choice fairly quickly as he could hear his boyfriend in the living room. Making his way into the bathroom, the sight of Dean huddled over the toilet.

 

“Babe...” he murmured as he knelt next to the brunette, running a hand over his back as the other man attempt to gain control over his breathing and his stomach. “I've never seen you this sick before.”

 

“I think it's cause I didn't eat before drinking last night,” he lied in between breaths. “I think it hit me harder because of that. Left less for the alcohol to filter through.”

 

“I suppose,” he murmured. “Do you want some coffee? I can make you a small cup for you to have, but you do need to eat something and drink some water. You'll only feel worse if you keep your stomach empty.”

 

“I'm not sure it's my choice to keep it empty,” he mumbled as he leaned back against the side of their tub. “It's not like there's anything in there, really.”

 

“I'm going to go make you some toast. It's light enough that you should be able to eat it, I won't burn the house down, and it should help your hangover. Then you can hop in the shower and hopefully feel better. You took some Advil, right?”

 

“Yes, I took some Advil. I'd really appreciate the toast, though. Thank you, Cas,” he said, offering him a small upward tilt of his lips. The older man simply smiled back, and leaned forward to kiss his temple.

 

“Anything, Dean,” he murmured, before getting up to go make the other some toast and coffee.

 

Dean remained on the floor of the bathroom, his stomach in turmoil over more than just the alcohol in his system. He had no idea how he was going to keep this up if Cas was suddenly going to expect semi-regular sex now, or if things would be simple and clear between them. He doubted he was much of a good lay when he was drunk, anyway.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Cas had begun to notice how much more often Dean came home tipsy and on the verge of drunkenness. It was irking him more than he dared to confront his boyfriend about, and he was more than certain the Winchester had noticed a growing distance between them. Today seemed to be the day of confrontation, when a very groggy brunette emerged from the bedroom, pale pasty skin reflecting the glaring sunlight from outside. Green eyes squinted and argued with the rays of sunshine, but lost the battle fairly quickly, turning away as Dean sauntered to the kitchen.

 

“You slept for quite a while,” Cas remarked from his place at his desk, intending a defensive response from the other.

 

“Yeah, I had a rough night at work last night,” was the unexpected response, causing him to narrow his eyes.

 

“Oh? What happened?”

 

“Fight broke out when a jealous ex came in. Nearly killed a guy before security could pull him off the other guy.”

 

“Wow, that sounds pretty crazy,” Cas said, turning towards the kitchen. “So that prompted you to drink?”

 

“I had a few drinks with the girl that had been friends with assaulter,” Dean replied as he came out of the kitchen, a bowl of cereal propped in his hand.

 

“Yet, you didn't drive to work, yesterday. Are you intentionally doing so because you'll be drinking at work?”

 

Dean glanced over at Cas, spoon hanging out the side of his mouth as he absorbed what his boyfriend had said. He raised his hand and pulled the spoon out of his mouth, setting it back into the bowl.

 

“Do you have that much of a problem with me having a couple of drinks?” Dean asked incredulously.

 

“I have a problem, when it ends up being almost every night that you work, and when you do come home after an early shift, you ended up staying until the bar closed anyway,” Cas said, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair.

 

“Do you think I'm becoming an alcoholic or something?”

 

“I didn't put the words in your mouth,” the older said, his heart pounding wildly in his chest at saying that. He had never been this forward with Dean before and it was slowly unnerving him. He took several deep breaths and he watched Dean process his statement. He could see the rage coming to a boil beneath the surface and it put him on edge.

 

“I'm not becoming an alcoholic, Cas. Sometimes, drinking is a part of my job, in order to get people to buy more drinks and to get more tips. Lately, I've been having a lot more people coming in needing a little persuasion, and I thought it a better idea to not drive to work, just in case I'm too tipsy to drive. I don't need the temptation, do I?” Dean snapped, his shoulders tense and his expression stony. “If you really had had a problem with this, you should've said something the first time you felt the problem.”

 

“Don't you _dare_ blame this on me,” Cas said, his eyes narrowing as he stood from his chair. “This is not just my problem, Dean. You've been drinking ever since you came home that one night and we had sex. Not only that, you're even more distant when it comes to touching now, _and_ you've been drinking more. What the fuck do you expect me to think? Do you expect me to _not_ think?!”

 

“I expect you to just let me do my god damned job!”

 

“You're job shouldn't affect your personal life like this, Dean. It shouldn't affect _us_. You hardly fucking talk to me anymore! I'd like to assume it's just the job and not something else.”

 

The shock and hurt that crossed over Dean's face at that remark was enough to warrant a little glee within Cas. He had finally gotten through to Dean that there was a problem going on here, and that was all he was trying to do. They needed to talk about what was going on with him, and what was happening at work.

 

“Tell me you don't seriously think I'm cheating on you,” the Winchester said, hurt radiating from every inch of him. His shoulders were sagging now, and his head hung a little lower.

 

“I don't think that, but unless you tell me what's really going on, and you swear it's not something going on between us, what the hell else can I think, Dean? There's nothing else I can think of that's going on.”

 

The younger man turned away from his boyfriend, heading towards the couch and sinking onto it. He was staring down at his bowl of cereal before he set it on the coffee table, and looked back up at Cas.

 

“I'm not cheating, Cas. The fact that you even think I could or _would_...” he cut himself off, unable to formulate his emotions into words. “I don't know what it is. I mean, that night...”

 

He sat in silence for a moment, trying to properly word what he was feeling. Cas stared at him intently, trying to figure out what Dean was trying to say without him saying. The way that Dean was positioned on the couch, his shoulders slouching towards his knees, his eyes back on the bowl of cereal with a partial longing, it made him believe the other wasn't cheating. That meant that it was something else that was provoking the drinking. Or maybe it was that night that was provoking the drinking.

 

“Did you force yourself to have sex with me, Dean?” Cas asked before the younger man could speak again.

 

“What?”

 

“Oh, you heard me.”

 

“N-No. I just... don't remember that night. I was a lot more drunk than I think you think I was,” Dean responded abashedly, his eyes averted from his boyfriend.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah, I had partially intended not to come home that night. One of the, uh, guys from the bar had lied to me when he said he was going to take me to his place. Instead, he brought me home. Told me he knew I had a boyfriend and that he wasn't going to let a drunk me ruin things.”

 

It took a moment for the weight of Dean's words to settle in Cas' stomach, and a fury began to bubble there, making the older feel a tidal wave of nausea rising slowly.

 

“You _were_ going to cheat.”

 

“No, God, no, Cas, do you not get it? I can't have sex unless I'm like completely fucking trashed. It wasn't even in my thoughts to have sex with that guy. He was my escape from facing the awkward truth with you. To escape the fact that I'm some fucked up, broken piece of human who can't even make his boyfriend happy,” Dean said, running a hand through his hair before covering his face with both hands.

 

A shaky breath emanated from between his hands, bringing Cas back down to Earth. Blue eyes fixed on the man on the couch, sympathy willing its way towards him. The shorter man rounded the coffee table, taking a seat beside Dean, his hand making its way to his back.

 

“Dean, listen to me. You're not broken, and you're definitely not a piece of a human. Last I checked, you're a whole piece of human. You have all your fingers and toes,” Cas said, causing a choked snort to escape his boyfriend. It brought a small, tense smile to his face to know that he could still invoke some happiness in Dean.

 

“I can't say as to whether you're fucked up or not. From my viewpoint, you're probably right, but does that mean you have to keep your distance from me? No, it doesn't, and it certainly doesn't mean you get to make me have panic attacks every night because I can't help but think you're cheating on me when you don't come home when you're supposed to. Don't forget you aren't the only one with problems here.”

 

“I'm sorry, Cas,” Dean mumbled between his hands. “I just... I think I'm focus on you when I'm really focusing on me, and I don't know what to do about it.”

 

“Maybe you should get help?” Cas suggested gently, knowing that it had been a touchy subject for Dean. His father had been the one to try and force him into therapy when he was younger, but Dean had argued he didn't need therapy, that he was fine. Even now, he would argue that, but to get to a breaking point like this was something Cas didn't know how to deal with.

 

“Help for what? I don't even know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I'm doing this, why I am this way,” he grumbled into his palms. It was such a vague statement, the older couldn't exactly pinpoint if it was a generalized statement, or if they were talking about his sexuality.

 

“Dean, maybe you should take a few days off. I could, too, and we could just have a small couple of days together. To try and sort this all out and really just talk with each other,” the raven-haired man murmured, his hand rubbing up and down Dean's back. This was the closest they had been in what seemed like weeks.

 

“I honestly don't know if that would make it better. Not to say our talking skills are bad or anything, but I don't think talking is going to fix this,” the younger said, pulling his hands away from his face and glancing up at the other. His freckled face was streaked with drying tears that made his green eyes shine brightly. It was a sort of beauty that made Cas' chest hurt.

 

“That's implying that this needs fixing, Dean. I don't think there's anything here to fix, simply things that need to happen. Talks that need to be had, things that need to be shared and said. I feel like we've both hid things from the other in what we assume was for the better, but maybe it isn't. Maybe these things are weaved so deeply into who we are, that not sharing them is detrimental to our relationship.”

 

“You make it sound so easy.”

 

“It should be if you trust me and I trust you.”

 

That brought on a tense, yet comfortable pause between them. Dean seemed to be contemplating the idea, as if there was really much to think about. His shoulders seemed tense again, squared and pulled in, making him seem smaller than he actually was.

 

“I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I'm not sure I can talk about the things you'd want me to talk about. There are things that I...” He paused, taking in a deep breath as if trying to calm himself. “I just don't tell anyone. It's not that I don't trust you, Cas, because I do, with all that I can be, but I can't trust myself to be able to live this way... with you, if I told you.”

 

Cas took a few moments to go over Dean's words, thinking them through and gathering his own thoughts to respond. He understood what his boyfriend was saying, yet it didn't really make sense to him.

 

“What could possibly be so bad that you wouldn't want to be with me?”

 

“It's not like that, exactly. I just... I couldn't live with myself knowing that other people viewed me the way I view myself.”

 

“And how you view yourself is a broken piece of human?”

 

“For the most part.”

 

“Dean, let me ask you something, and I want you to think about it before you blurt out an answer,” Cas said, his eyes taking in Dean's form. “Why do you think I'm with you? Why do you think I love you?”

 

The silence that laid between them was almost music to Cas' ears as he watched his boyfriend truly think about his answer. It was a habit of Dean's to just rush into saying whatever he thought the other person would want to hear, but he wanted to hear what the Winchester wanted to say. It seemed clear that both of them were tired of hiding secrets and vulnerability. Although, Dean still seemed bent on hiding whatever it was that was a large part of his life.

 

“I don't know, Cas. I could name you every reason you've ever given me, but I don't believe any of them. Perhaps you think you deserve to have someone to fix? Maybe you _need_ to fix someone?”

 

“You've avoided my question, Dean. Don't think about my motives or my doings. Those are mine. I want your thoughts as to why you've done something, or said something that warranted my love, my want to stay with you.”

 

“I've done nothing.”

 

“That's not true, Dean.”

 

“What could I have possibly done? I couldn't even keep the love of my family, the one thing that should actually matter in this world. Why in the hell could I have earned or deserved what you've given me?”

 

“By being you. That's all I've ever needed. You're one of the few people in my life who has never told me to get over my anxiety. You're the one person who has actually made it better. You've made it easier for me to do things I never would've otherwise done,” Cas said, looking into Dean's eyes. “You may think that you don't deserve anything I've given you, but I can tell you otherwise. Sometimes, you're a stubborn ass who makes life more difficult than necessary, but then there are times where simply just sitting here, like this, makes it worth everything and more.”

 

Dean sighed at that, looking back down at his soggy bowl of cereal. There was nothing he could say to argue that, because obviously Cas believed it. He couldn't believe it, though. How could he have done all of that when he was so difficult?

 

“Dean? Will you take a couple of days off? Just let us spend some time together?” Cas asked, his expression imploring Dean to agree. He couldn't stand to disappoint him, so he simply nodded as he leaned forward to grab his food. The older man smiled and moved to kiss the Winchester on the cheek, but stopped half-way and pulled back. His smile had faltered a little at his near mistake.

 

“I love you, Dean.”

 

“I love you, too.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, Dean. Maybe.

 

“Happy birthday, Dean,” Cas murmured into the pillow, his bright blue eyes greeting his boyfriend. Things had been better in the last couple of months between them. The Winchester still drank, but not quite as much as he had been, which was enough of a change to show that he was serious. He hadn't sought out a therapist, though, and that was really what Cas wanted of all the things.

 

“Can I just sleep for the whole day?” Dean responded grumpily, pulling the comforter up over the bottom of his face. His words became muffled as his eyes opened groggily, greeting Cas unhappily.

 

“But that would ruin our plans for your birthday,” Cas said seriously, causing Dean to chuckle lightly.

 

“But see, my plans involve sleeping away the entire day to avoid the inevitably awkward phone call I'll get at some point from Sam. That is one thing I'd like to miss today,” he said, his eyes locked on Cas'. Inhaling deeply, he sighed into the back of the comforter, before stretching beneath the blanket, a few pops sounding through the fabric.

 

“And that's why there's a thing called the power button on your phone. You can turn it off. You're not working today, and you know they won't call you. Come on, it's actually a nice day for being January. We could go out and do couple things and gross out all the homophobic people,” Cas said, earning a laugh from Dean.

 

“Or get beaten by all the homophobic people,” he responded sarcastically as he shifted his weight fully onto his side. “I was actually thinking we could go to a bar or a club tonight. I know you're not typically one for night life, but I'd like it. I'd like to see you really unwind.”

 

Cas debated it for a moment, truly wondering if he'd be able to deal with that kind of situation without making it a horrible night. He didn't like going out around people, mostly because he was afraid of being labeled as gay and potentially getting attacked or hate for it. Knowing Dean, though, the place they would go would predominantly be gay, and he couldn't imagine it'd be all that bad.

 

“Okay,” he said after a few minutes, offering Dean a smile. “I think I could manage it. Where would we go?”

 

“My job? I mean, they already know me, and I know the environment well enough to know you and I wouldn't be confronted for who we are, and you probably won't get hit on by ridiculously attractive men,” Dean said, chuckling lightly.

 

“You mean like you?” Cas responded easily. It caused the younger to flush with embarrassment at being called attractive.

 

“You know what I mean,” the brunette replied, giving him a half smile. His smile turned into a yawn, and his hand came up to cover his mouth so he wouldn't expose Cas to his horrible morning breath.

 

“I would offer to make breakfast, but we both know that's a horrible idea,” he said after Dean's face was back to normal. The Winchester chuckled at that, half burying his face into his pillow.

 

“I can make breakfast after I shower. Then you can shower while I make it,” he said, grinning widely. “We both know we don't need to set fire to our house for my birthday. As exciting and exhilarating as that might be, I think we'd both have panic attacks then.”

 

Cas grinned sheepishly at that, nodding in agreement. His eyes followed as Dean rolled onto his back and sat up, stretching his muscles and joints. Sneak peeks of skin could be seen as his shirt raised up from him stretching his shoulders. He averted his eyes as he rolled onto his own back.

 

“Do you want me to turn on The Avengers?”

 

“You know me too well,” Dean responded with a half laugh. He slid off the side of the bed with a dull thud on the carpet as he stretched a little more. “I should be out in about ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”

 

Cas nodded, despite the fact that Dean couldn't see him. The other man disappeared into the bathroom, door shutting and locking behind him. It had always been a habit that the younger man had, and it had never really perturbed Cas until as of late. He couldn't really pin down why it bothered him, but he could guess it had something to do with the fact that they'd had sex, yet seemed more distant instead of closer because of it.

 

Biting his lower lip, he slid of the bed and padded his way to the kitchen in verbal silence. He prepared the coffee machine, and turned it on with a press of the button before heading to his work desk. Even though he wasn't working today, he always checked his work email, just to keep up with the ongoing events. It helped ease his mind and keep him from a panic attack later that day.

 

A ding echoed from the kitchen, alerting him that the coffee was done, and he headed to the kitchen to make two cups. Just as he grabbed the pot to pour the first cup, the shower cut off, signaling that Dean was done with his shower. He opted to leave his cup empty until he had finished showering. Preparing the Winchester's coffee as he liked it, he carried it into the living room, setting it on the table before moving to grab the DVD for The Avengers.

 

Dean emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, hair damp and messy from a towel. He gave Cas a smile as he plopped down on the couch, grabbing his coffee.

 

“Thank you,” he said, raising the mug slightly, before putting it to his lips. Cas just offered him a smile as he pushed the disc into the player.

 

“I'll be back in about twenty minutes,” he said, as he turned back to Dean. “Gotta be clean for whatever drunken escapades you have planned for tonight.”

 

“Oh I'm not the only one getting drunk tonight,” the younger called after him as he disappeared through the doorway.

 

The rest of their day was rather low-key, with a couple of movies, home-cooked food and a ton of couch sitting. Once it was around 10 o'clock, they both started getting ready for their night out. Cas took a little more time than Dean did, as he was unsure of what he should wear.

 

“We're about the same size, you could wear some of my stuff if you don't feel comfortable going to a bar in yours,” Dean teased him, causing the older man to flush.

 

“I'm fine, thank you,” he said in response, and Dean just grinned mischievously.

 

“That you are.”

 

Cas rolled his eyes at that, but smiled as he finally found something suitable for him to wear. He was less self-conscious about his body, so he ended up changing in front of Dean, who seemed to be more focused on fixing his hair.

 

Once he was dressed, he turned to look over at Dean, eyes grazing his entire body. The younger man was wearing dark wash, fitted jeans, which Cas would happily admit tightened in all the right places. His shirt was a true blue, button down, and was fairly simple, but it complimented his complexion perfectly.

 

It made him feel a little lack luster in comparison, but when Dean looked up and smiled at him, that was all he needed.

 

“I never thought I'd see the day where you dressed up. Unless we were both miraculously invited to my brother's wedding,” Dean said as he approached him. Cas chuckled at that, tugging at the hems of the black vest.

 

“You should wear purple more often. It makes your eyes seem even bluer,” the younger said as his hands raised to comb through Cas' hair. “And keep your hair away from your face. Brings more focus to your eyes.”

 

It was almost foreign to have Dean paying attention to him like this, but he wasn't about to say anything about it. The edges of his lips quirked though, as Dean's hands went over his clothing, fixing little things that were apparently off.

 

“Yeah, dress like this more often. I like it,” he said as he took a step back to take Cas in.

 

“This is a little too fancy to put on just to go somewhere, Dean. I only wore it because it's your birthday,” he said, and Dean just grinned.

 

“Guess I need to give you more reasons to dress like this then, huh? Come on, let's go. I need to show you off to the world,” Dean said, taking his hand unexpectedly and leading him out of the house.

 

The feeling of Dean's hand in his was like electric, even though it shouldn't be. It made his skin tingle as he followed after his boyfriend, whose hand left his shortly after.

 

“We'll take my car,” Dean said, all grins and excitement as Cas rounded the car to the passenger side.

 

“Just swear you won't try to kill me,” the older said, shaking his head.

 

“If I try to kill you, I try to kill me too,” he said laughing as he got into the car. “No, see you have to take my keys from me when we get to the bar. Then, you give them to who ever's there, because they won't let me drive when I'm drunk. And I just don't trust anyone with my car.”

 

“Fair enough,” Cas said, grinning at that as he put his seat belt on. The car roared to life, humming beneath his feet. They sat there for a few moments to let the car warm up in the cold weather. It was a comfortable silence, which was soon broken by the loudness of the engine. Dean pulled out of the driveway and they headed off towards the bar.

 

Twenty minutes later, they were inside, sitting at the bar. Dean was avidly chatting with his co-worker, while Cas sat there nursing a water until his food arrived. His goal was leave the bar barely drunk, but he didn't know how well that would work.

 

“And this is Cas,” he heard Dean say, and he looked up from his glass of water like a deer in headlights.

 

“Fantastic to finally meet you,” the blonde said, offering her hand over the bar. Cas took it after a short moment of consideration.

 

“You, too,” he said out of courtesy, causing her to chuckle.

 

“I know it's not. You've been staring into your glass for the past three minutes,” she said, grinning at him. “Don't worry, it's not so bad once you get a few drinks in.”

 

“Well, see, he's not a drinker. Have you ever been drunk before, Cas?”

 

“No, I've never had alcohol before,” he responded, looking over at Dean who just grinned at him.

 

“Oh, tonight is going to be fantastic,” he said, laughing as the girl headed down the bar to get what he hoped was their food. It was, which was a relief, because he could avoid conversation by having his mouth full of food.

 

He simply listened to Dean chat with a couple of his co-workers while they both ate, content in just being the observer. It was another thing to see Dean where he seemed most comfortable. The younger was incredibly animated here, even more so than at home, but it almost seemed showy. It made him curious as to what his co-workers thought of him and who he was. Dean seemed incredibly flirtatious here, the way he talked, and his expressions, yet they knew he was here with his boyfriend.

 

“Okay, Jo, let's get something fruity and heavy for my man here, and I'll have my regulars,” Dean said as he finished his food. He glanced over at Cas, before leaning over to speak to him. “You okay, Cas?”

 

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?”

 

“Well, I've kind of just left you sitting there. I know how you hate to be in unknown places, especially a place like this,” Dean said, his expression a little guilty and sympathetic.

 

“I'm fine, Dean. I was just watching you talk to her,” he said honestly. “Believe me, I'd let you know if I were uncomfortable. I don't think I'd have much choice in the matter.”

 

Dean gave him a small smile, leaning forward a little more to kiss his cheek.

 

“I love you,” the younger said with a smile, before pulling away as drinks were delivered to them.

 

“Here ya go, Sweety,” Jo said as she slid a large, red beverage to him. “Hope you enjoy.”

 

He stared at the large drink in front of him, curious as to how much alcohol was in it.

 

“That's two-thirds alcohol,” Dean answered him, grinning at his expression. “Don't worry, it's a sweeter drink, which takes the edge off the liquor.”

 

“It's not the bitterness I'm worried about,” Cas responded, looking over at Dean. The other laughed at that.

 

“Seriously, Cas, you'll be fine. We'll be fine. I'm not entirely planning on getting completely shit-faced or anything. I'd like to remember tonight,” he said, smiling at his boyfriend. The older man nodded warily at that, as he watched the taller down two shots.

 

It took him much longer than Dean to start feeling the affects of the alcohol. By the time he had finished his first drink, he was feeling a little light headed and warm. Everything, including Dean, seemed funnier, and it wasn't too long later that another of the same drink was set in front of him.

 

Dean, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying taking his shots, and even managed to get Cas to take a few. By the time that one rolled around, both of them were pretty drunk, and Dean was very attached to Cas.

 

“We should go home,” Dean slurred in his face, grinning. It was hard to really focus on his face, but Cas was pretty sure that he was smiling, too.

 

“Yeah, that seems... good. Very good.”

 

“We could fuck. You know, as a birthday surprise.”

 

“That... seems like the best idea you've ever had,” Cas said in response, his words just about as slurred as Dean's. It wasn't too long until they were ushered out the door and into a cab to get home safely. The night passed in blurs for the both of them, but Cas could distinctly remember that more than just the bed experienced their love that night.

 

The next morning, he woke up considerably later than normal, completely naked and uncovered, Dean in the same state as him, but more covered by their blanket. The effects of a headache wore heavily on his will to keep his eyes open, as he groaned as he rolled away from the window. Running a sluggish hand over his face, he sighed as he tried to recount the events of the previous night.

 

He could remember certain things clearer than others, but it was not a forgettable night. Licking his lips, he called out Dean's name, trying to rouse the other. He reached down to tug the comforter up over him more, knowing that Dean would undoubtedly be perturbed to wake up as they had.

 

“Dean, come on, wake up,” he said, earning a groan from the other. “Dean.”

 

“What?” he heard mumbled from the other.

 

“Wake up, we need to talk.”

 

“Is it a bad talk, because I'm not sure I could take it right now,” Dean responded in a grumble as he rolled onto his back slowly.

 

“I'm not sure what kind of talk it will be, honestly. I can say this though. If this is the only way we'll ever have sex, I'm not sure I can deal with it,” he said.

 

“What?” Dean said, suddenly seeming more awake. He sat up with a sudden groan of pain, the blanket sliding down to reveal his nude body. Once realization settled in, he quickly laid back down, covering himself with the comforter. “Oh.”

 

“Yeah, 'oh',” Cas responded, not quite understanding why he was so irritated. He was more than irritated, he was furious. “I can't do this, Dean. I would much rather not have sex at all, than have you have to be drunk every time. And then you tell me last night, you don't plan to get that drunk? Do you know how many shots you had?”

 

“No,” Dean responded, shame dripping from his voice.

 

“12. 12 shots of straight liquor, Dean. You don't remember last night at all, do you?”

 

Dean just shook his head in response to that, earning a heavy sigh from Cas. The older man ran his hand over his face again as he sat up, not particularly caring that he was naked.

 

“I think you need to get your shit fixed, Dean. I don't know what the hell is up, that this is what it takes for you to be close to me. I'm okay with you being asexual. I don't _need_ you to force yourself to have sex with me. Especially if it involves you getting hammered every time. I've tried to talk to you about this. I've tried to help you, but I don't know what I can do. After the first time of you getting hammered, you've been drinking more, and even more distant than usual.

 

I can't help you if you don't want to be helped, so maybe I just gotta give you a reason to get help. I'm leaving, Dean. I'm not coming back until you've gotten help.”

 

He had gotten off the bed and started getting dressed while speaking. It made it easier to see the completely heartbroken expression on Dean's face.

 

“W-what?” he heard the man gasp out after a few seconds of gathering what Cas was saying.

 

“I'm pretty sure what I said was straight forward. Get help to get me back. If you don't...” Cas said, trailing off. His own heart shattered at the idea that Dean still wouldn't get help from this. “Then I'll know what I really meant to you.”

 

Once he was fully dressed, he grabbed a large suitcase of his from under the bed, and started gathering his important belongings. He had no idea where he was going to go, but he couldn't stay here and encourage or influence Dean's behavior. Even if it wasn't quite alcoholic yet, it was enough that it could become that way. The younger drank every day, even when he was off work. When would it turn into the buzz not being enough? He didn't want to see that happen.

 

Without a word, he zipped up the case once he had grabbed his most important things, and left the house. He had never turned or looked up to see Dean's tear streaked face, the blanket pulled tight around his body like a shield. Cas knew that if he had looked at Dean, he never would've left.

 


	7. Chapter 7

“Where am I?”

 

“Smith County Memorial Hospital.”

 

“I'm sorry, what?”

 

“Mr. Winchester, do you know where you are?”

 

The doctor looked concerned as he looked into Dean's eyes. The only thing that the Winchester remembered was leaving Sioux Falls after Cas had left, and heading for what he considered home. Even though he and his father and he didn't get along well at the time, maybe now, things could be different.

 

He had stopped in Lebanon on his way to Lawrence, and had been greatly sidetracked by the wonderful amount of small dive bars there. From there, it had just spiraled out of control. He'd had a lot of money saved up from his job, which had all been blown on booze and then some. He'd rented out a small long-stay hotel room, but had decided that liquor was worth more to him than a comfy bed. After that, it was really all a blur.

 

“I know I'm in Kansas. I was in Lebanon, but they don't seem to have a big enough town to have a hospital. Where's my car?”

 

“Mr. Winchester, the car is not of import--'

“I think you'll excuse me if I disagree with you.”

 

“Mr. Winchester.”

 

“Who did you call?”

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

“I asked you who you called. I'm assuming that you went through my belongings. Found numbers for family?” Dean said, glaring up at he doctor. His arms were folded as comfortably as they could be with the IV drip trailing to the back of his hand.

 

“Yes, we called your father.”

 

“When?”

 

“When you arrived here by ambulance last night. There was a missing person's alert for you. Someone recognized you passed out in your car.”

 

“Speaking of. Where is it?”

 

“It's been impounded.”

 

“Naturally,” he responded, his faced soured at the idea of his beautiful Impala in the impound lot.

 

“Dean!” came a familiar voice, one that made his headache even worse. Heaving a sigh, he looked away from the doctor who was now backing out of the room to make way for John Winchester.

 

“Hiya, Dad,” he said, his voice incredibly tense.

 

“What the hell happened? I thought you were in Sioux Falls,” John asked heatedly, his words carrying agitation.

 

“Oh, and how would you know? Sammy?”

 

“He and I still talk, even if you won't talk to me,” John said.

 

“There's a reason I don't talk to you, and there's a reason I'd like to not talk to him. I barely managed to avoid him these past several months, but I have a feeling you're going to tell me that he's on his way from California with his sugar sweet fiance,” Dean muttered, averting his gaze from his father.

 

“They're already here, Dean. When I got the call last night, they took a flight out as soon as I called them.”

 

“Wonderful. Can you see if my phone is over there?”

 

“Why would you need your phone?”

 

“Because I'm wondering if some I care about might've contacted me. If there was a missing persons alert, I know who put it out, and it wasn't your or Sam.”

 

“Who was it then?” his father asked in his typical passive, prying way.

 

“My boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend? Something in the sense of intimacy? Hell if I know what we are anymore,” he replied, his tone dripping in sarcasm and venom.

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

“What, didn't hear me properly?”

 

The silence that greeted him was a little off-setting, and completely unexpected. He had thought his father would fly into a rage over him being gay. When the silence lasted longer than he could stand, he looked up at his father, who had turned his back, his shoulder's raised and tense.

 

“What? Don't like the fact that your son's a faggot?”

 

“Do you think that's what bothers me, Dean?” John retorted, turning to face him. “Do you think that little of me?”

 

“Yeah, I do. You and Sam. I'm surprised he never told you.”

 

“What did we do? What in this world caused you to hate us?”

 

Dean scoffed at that and turned away, not willing to give John an answer. There were many things they had done to earn his hatred. They hadn't earned the right to be told what they'd done wrong. If they couldn't figure out, what was the point?

 

“Dean?” a soft voice carried into the room, causing Dean and John to look at the door. Sam's form entering the room. “Are you okay?”

 

“Does having a hangover from hell count as okay? Wait, it's not like you'd care,” Dean responded. His gaze held all his loathing for his family.

 

“I wouldn't think now is the time for sarcasm, Dean. From what I hear, you almost died,” Sam replied, giving his older brother a skeptical look.

 

“Right, well the thing is, you had to hear it,” Dean said.

 

“You're seriously going to fault me for that?”

 

“I fault both of you for it.”

 

“You're the one who left, Dean,” Sam said, folding his arms over his chest. “It wasn't me. Dad didn't abandon you. You're the one who just up and left when you turned 18.”

 

“And I had damn good reason for it, too,” Dean growled back.

 

“Really, 'cause I'd love to hear,” Sam said, his jaw set in a simmering rage. “From everything that you've said to me over the last ten years has not qualified as a good enough excuse for you leaving.”

 

“Well, that's a damn shame, because you should know exactly what my reasoning is. Must mean you're not a good enough brother,” the older Winchester said.

 

“Oh, this isn't just me, Dean. You're in this, too, whether you wanted to be or not. If you didn't want to be, you should've cut your ties a little cleaner.”

 

Dean scoffed in response to that, rolling his eyes as he looked away from his brother.

 

“Don't. Don't you do that, you can't run now,” Sam said as he moved further into the room, coming to a halt at the end of Dean's bed. “No, I'm not leaving until you tell me why you never want to talk to me again, and your reason cannot be the quality of my being a brother. Family is supposed to suck ass, but then they're supposed to be there during the roughest part of your life.”

 

“That's the thing though. Neither of you were there during the roughest part of my life.”

 

“Was that your choice or ours?” John interjected, stepping forward. “I've seen everything you go through, boy. I know you better than to think just anything would be rough for you.”

 

“Oh, don't even, you blind son of a bitch,” Dean snapped. “See, I couldn't tell you, Sammy, you were my little brother, but even as you got older, you just didn't seem to care.”

 

“Dean, all I did was care. I couldn't understand how suddenly, my older brother just didn't talk to me anymore. I didn't understand why the brother I loved so much just became—I don't know—isolated. You changed, and I don't know why,” Sam said, his hands gripping the foot-board.

 

Dean couldn't make eye contact with his brother at that point. His head was pounding with the memories of his childhood and the stress of Sam and John both being there. The tense silence was broken by a knock, and a soft female voice echoing in the room.

 

“Is he okay?” she asked, her blue eyes locked on Sam's form. It was obvious that she was Jessica, the fiance.

 

“Jess, come on in,” Sam said, the stress in his shoulders melting away as he turned to her. “Not the best circumstances, but this is my brother, Dean. Dean, this is--”

 

“Yeah, Jess, got it,” he replied grumpily. She looked a little hesitant to be there, as she glanced up at Sam before turning back to Dean.

 

“I'd say it's nice to meet you, but you look like shit,” she said, her head tilted slightly, causing her hair to lay over part of her face.

 

“And you're the supposed hot piece of ass that's been taking care of my brother. Good job,” the older Winchester said, green eyes showing his annoyance with her.

 

“Are you always this objectifying when it comes to women?” she asked, arching an eyebrow as she folded her arms over her chest.

 

“I'm objectifying when it comes to shitty people,” he responded and she scoffed.

 

“Because you have the total right to make the judgment on me when you've just met me. You are a classy, piece of work, Dean Winchester. It runs in the family,” she said, her gaze holding no amusement or offense at his words.

 

“Oh, if only you knew it didn't,” he said, and opened his mouth to speak more, but Sam cut him off.

 

“Dean, stop it. You have no need to be rude to her.”

 

“Sam, it's okay. I think I can handle an alcoholic with self-image issues, because that's what this is really all about, isn't it, Dean? That's how you come off. Insult and degrade other people so that you seem like you're on top. Did you do that with your boyfriend, too? Is that how you ended up here, coming off an alcohol trip that was too much for you to handle?”

 

“Well, if I've got no right to judge you, you certainly are in the same space,” Dean responded and she laughed at that.

 

“I think vicariously living through the stories I've heard from Sam comes close enough to knowing you, because you're as shallow as they come,” she said and Sam's hand tightened a little on her shoulder.

 

“I like you,” Dean said after a few moments, shrugging. “At least you've got spine.”

 

“I couldn't say the same thing about you, Dean. All you've done is run, question is, what are you running from? Family? Trauma? Commitment?”

 

“I think you all should leave,” Dean said, suddenly tense and agitated. “You can leave, or I can have you escorted out.”

 

The disappointment that was on Sam's face was almost enough to make him reconsider, but he looked away to avoid it. He heard the door to his room close with a soft click, leaving him in silence at last.

 

Releasing a long sigh, he ran a hand over his face, before turning his hand over to stare at the needle that was embedded in his skin. He had the growing urge to just rip it out, and leave the hospital, but he knew better. If he couldn't remember the last couple of days, he was pretty sure he had suffered alcohol poisoning, and he knew better than to try and power through that without medical help.

 

“Dammit, Cas,” he muttered to himself as his eyes began to burn with the threat of tears. “You stupid, stupid son of a bitch.”

 

The tears won, spilling over his eye lids and down his face. His whole body felt heavy with emotion and hangover. Staring at his hands in his lap, he wondered how he had let himself get here. The one person, who he could only dream still cared about him, who he could have ever told the one thing he regretted most in his life was gone.

 

It was his fault, too. He had been to stubborn to tell Cas why he had known he was asexual. There had never been any doubt from a young age that he would never want to have sex with people, and he had also discovered the only way he was really comfortable being close to people. Even now, it still didn't make sense to him, but that's the way it was.

 

Dean was too enveloped in his thoughts to hear or see the door open and close as a person entered it. Several moments of silence passed between the bodies in the room, before the visitor spoke.

 

“Dean,” said the familiar voice, catapulting him out of his reverie, and causing his head to snap up. His eyes locked on the form on the other side of the room, which only invoked more tears.

 

“Cas? How did you—?”

 

“Really, who do you think reported you missing to the police? I know you better than you think, Dean. You don't run unless it's something terrible. What I did—what I expected of you was not fair. I shouldn't have left you,” Cas said, a frown creasing his face. The sadness in his ice blue eyes was true and heartbreaking. It only made Dean's chest ache so that he couldn't speak.

 

Just as he regained control of his breathing, the door busted open, revealing a defensive Sam.

 

“Who the hell are you?” he asked, his eyes narrowed a bit as he stared Cas down. The older man's brow furrowed, as he looked from Sam to Dean and back to Sam.

 

“I'm Castiel, Cas for short. You... You must be Sam,” Cas said, the anxiety spread thin across his face as he tried to keep himself calm. The realization that hit Sam in the face immediately relaxed him as a pained smile edged its way onto his face.

 

“I—wow. I'm sorry. I—It's nice to finally meet you,” he said, taking a few steps forward, offering his hand to Cas. It took the raven-haired man by surprise as he hesitantly took his hand.

 

“You, too. Uh, perhaps we should—Dean, I'll be back. I swear, if you've moved more than a foot off your bed, I will, personally, tie you down to it. There's no more running,” he said, his tone deep and steady. Dean just nodded morosely as he watched Cas and Sam exit the room. This was his worst nightmare come true.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! So things are starting to come to a close, and the next chapter is kind of an epilogue of sorts. I'm super excited, since this will be my first ever finished chapter work ever! And I'm really glad to have been able to share this story with people, and that so many people have enjoyed it! So thank you for sticking with it, and for sticking with me! This will free up a lot more time for me to work on my other story!

“So, I'm going to assume we've both heard things about the other,” Cas said as he walked down the hall with Sam. He had never known what to really expect of Dean's brother, but it seemed having only one side of the story was not good enough anymore.

 

“I've certainly heard nothing about you. He rarely talks about anything going on in his life when I've called him. He hardly talks at all. All I knew was that he was with someone, a man, and he said he was happy. I tried to get more from him,” Sam said, and Cas believed him. This man had no reason to lie. He didn't know what Dean had told him.

 

“I think he's been lying to quite a lot of people then,” the shorter man responded with a sigh. “All he's ever told me is horrible things about you, and about his father. From the way he put it, you disapproved of his relationship with a man, much more, his interest in men.”

 

“What? That's ridiculous, I would never—“

 

“I would like say my mind has been changed,” he continued. “You don't seem very much like the person he's painted you to be for me. I've always figured something had to happen in his childhood to cause whatever it is that's surfacing now. It was the very poor reason I had for leaving.”

 

“So you know why—?” Sam asked, but stopped when Cas shook his head.

 

“No. He still refused to tell me, despite being together for nearly eight years. I had always accepted his choices, because I love him, but within the last year, as you can see, those choices became worse and worse. I don't know if it was something I did, or if I had said something...”

 

“Cas, I hardly think it was you. I used to think the same way when he left. He and Dad had butted heads a lot, especially because of mom, but he had always had this silent resentful respect for him. He hated Dad, yet he loved him, too. I thought there was no way that Dad could've caused him to leave when he did, so I automatically assumed it was something with me.

 

“Maybe I was a bad brother, or too needy as a younger sibling, but the older I got, the more I realized that Dean was the only one who made his choices, and no one else. People could influence them, sure, but ultimately, he let them influence him. That will always be his choice.”

 

Cas looked over at Sam, taking in the full form of Dean's younger brother. Younger, but he seemed so much wiser than Dean. Sam had learned from his pain, and from the problems within his family, while his brother was fueled and propelled by them.

 

“You are wise beyond your years, Sam,” he said after a few moments, earning a chuckle from the other.

 

“I guess, but I lay that all on Jess. She's been a godsend,” he said through his smile.

 

“Your fiance, right?”

 

“Yeah. She, uh, doesn't care too much for Dean, especially now,” he said quietly, his head hung a little. “She thinks he's selfish.”

 

“She's right, too. He is selfish, and I'm going to fix that, because I'm sick of it, and he should be, too,” Cas said, looking forward again as they entered the cafeteria of the hospital. “From my understanding, he'll be able to leave today once all his tests come back normal. Based on my knowledge of alcoholism, he would've had to have been drinking for years in order to earn a longer hospital stay.”

 

“Are you taking him back to South Dakota then?”

 

“I should, simply because I don't think he'll go with his family, but courtesy of me, I invite you and Jess to come along, if you'd like. You can stay at our home, and I don't give a fuck what Dean says. He tolerates you enough to accept your phone calls, and that means he doesn't hate you. He makes an attempt to keep ties without admitting it.”

 

The smile on Sam's face was bright, and similar to Dean's when he would smile out of true joy. It only made it that much clearer that the older Winchester had been the divider in his family, not his brother and father. That only urged more curiosity as to what could have caused this barrier between them.

 

“Thanks, Cas, you have no idea what that means to me. I'll have to talk with Jess though. She may want to go home,” he said as they went through the food line. Cas nodded, and carried on their conversation, trying to get to know Sam better.

 

About an hour later, Sam had left him to go back to Jess and their hotel room, while Cas headed back to Dean's room. He found the younger there, still on his bed.

 

“Have a nice chat with my brother?” he asked angrily as Cas closed the door behind him.

 

“I did, actually, and I think you and I have a lot of talking to do, Dean. You've made your family to be monsters, when I've found that Sam, at least, is not the monster you painted him to be. Why?”

 

“He was never there for me!” Dean responded heatedly.

 

“You never let him be,” the older said, his lips pursed. “Dean, I'm not blind. Something _had_ to happen. I don't know what, but you don't just cut yourself off from family like that unless something happened. Please, if you've ever loved me, just tell me.”

 

The hurt that crossed over the Winchester's face was enough to break his heart as he approached the bed. It was an inexplicable hurt, one that seemed to radiate from all that he was, and he had no idea how to make it better. He grasped Dean's hand, squeezing it gently, and the other didn't even pull away from him. When he looked away from their hands, he saw tears on the brunette's face, which only made his chest ache more. He had seen Dean hurt in ways than one, but never quite like this.

 

“Dean, I need you to talk to me,” he murmured, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “What good is being together if you can't even trust me?”

 

“It's not a matter of trust,” Dean mumbled, his hand gripping Cas' a little tighter. “It's a fear of the reaction.”

 

“Why would you need to fear me?” he asked, his face contorting in confusion.

 

“Not you, not really. I just—I don't know how you'll react, and I'm scared that what I expect of you is what it will be, and that's the last thing I want.”

 

“Dean...”

 

“I was raped, Cas.”

 

The words fell heavy in the room, seeming to shut down their surroundings and drown them in pressure that only the ocean could muster. Cas' chest felt collapsed, the air sucked out of him as he weighed Dean's admittance on his heart and mind. It was almost crushing him. He didn't know what to say or how to react. It took everything in him to keep calm so as not to put Dean any more on edge.

 

“When?” he finally asked, his thoughts collected enough to form proper responses.

 

“When I was a kid. Sam doesn't know,” he said softly, which made Cas narrow his eyes.

 

“Your father does?”

 

“It was my father.”

 

Cas sucked in a breath as he felt tension pull at his face, his hands trembling with a simmering rage and anxiety. It explained everything that went on with Dean and his family, and it only gave him more reason to feel guilty over leaving. Never, in a million years, would he have expected this kind of confession, nor would he have expected it to hit him so hard.

 

“You need to tell Sam,” Cas said after a few moments of collecting and bottling his fury.

 

“W—what? I can't do that!”

 

“You _have_ to,” he said, his expression pained for Dean. “Dean, he has to know. He thinks he did something wrong to you. He thinks he's the reason you left home. Sam's old enough now that the image of his father being ruined will only do so much to him. Not only will it help him, but it will help you, too.

 

“I can't be the only support system you have. It's too isolating, and frankly, there's only so close of a bond we could ever have. It's nothing compared to what brothers have. Call him. I can tell the nurses to keep him out of here, okay?”

 

Dean nodded mutely as Cas rounded the bed to grab his phone and hand it to him. The looks exchanged between them were understanding and pained. He couldn't have ever imagined something like existing in his life, but he wouldn't have it any other way. The Winchester had become more important to him than he could express, and he needed to be there for him now, when everything seemed hardest.

 

“I'll be just outside the door,” he said as he watched Dean thumb through his contacts to call Sam. He exited the room, standing next to the door, and waiting for a nurse to come by. He didn't feel comfortable enough leaving the vicinity of the door in case his father tried to come in.

 

Dean, on the other hand, was having doubts about telling Sam, but knew that it would happen one way or another. He didn't want his brother to hear it from Cas. It wasn't fair to either of them, as they barely knew each other, and it wasn't the easiest thing to talk about.

 

Pressing the call button, he pressed the phone to his ear, dial tone ringing monotonously. It numbed him a little to hear something so repetitive, but was broken out of that comfort when Sam's voice answered.

 

“Dean? Is everything okay? This isn't Cas is it?”

 

“No, no, Sammy, it's me,” he said quietly, his voice shaky with the anticipation of the topic of the call.

 

“Dean? Are you okay?”

 

“Not really, no,” he replied, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself. “I need to tell you something.”

 

“Anything.”

 

He heard rustling in the background, which he assumed meant that Sam was exiting whatever hotel room he and Jess were in. It was confirmed with a door shutting.

 

“I...uh. Sam, I was...I was raped when I was a kid,” he said in a rush, and he was hoping Sam had understood him. There was a long moment of silence, prompting him to call Sam's name just to make sure he hadn't been hung up on.

 

“No—yeah, I'm here. I just—Dean, why didn't you ever tell me?”

 

“Because it was Dad, Sammy,” he said, his voice cracking as tears slid down his face again. His hands curled into fists, the white sheet clenched tightly in his grasp as an anchor. The silence on the other end only made it worse for him as he did everything he could to hide the fact that he was crying.

 

“Dean, you should've told me,” Sam said after a few moments of processing. “If I had known—God, Dean, if I had known.”

 

“It wasn't your problem. I couldn't put this on you.”

 

“Dean, it became my problem when you pushed yourself away from me. Jesus, this explains everything. I feel like I should have know.”

 

“This isn't your fault, Sam, it's mine.”

 

“No!” Sam replied hastily, his tone adamant. “No, this is not your fault, Dean, this is his. He did this to you and to us, and you can't blame yourself for this.”

 

Dean heard his brother sigh on the other end, and he imagined him running his hand through his hair, like he always did when he was stressed. It brought a small smile to his face.

 

“Dean, Cas invited me and Jess to come back to South Dakota with you for a while. I've got the time off from school, since we're in-between semesters, but Jess would go back. Would you be okay with that? I want to make sure you're okay, and I want to deal with this properly.”

 

Thinking back to what Cas had said, it prevented him from telling Sam no, and he nodded, before realizing that his brother couldn't see him.

 

“Yeah, yeah, that's okay,” he said quietly, wondering when Cas was going to come back in. “Look, I'm gunna go, okay? Don't... don't tell him you know, please.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Sam said, but they both knew that was a lie. The line went dead shortly after and he set his phone down. He sat in silence for several moments, before a commotion outside his room made him curious. He craned his head as if it would really help his hearing, but he didn't even need that, the screams reverberating through the room.

 

“What do you mean I can't see my son!?” John yelled, putting Dean on edge. He assumed someone was replying based on the silence that came afterward, before a few thuds and grunts greeted his ears.

 

“Get out of my way!” he heard his father growl at the door, but Cas' voice was the one that stopped him.

 

“I'd like to see you make me,” came the response, and the door thudded against the frame, causing Dean to shift backwards on the bed. There was a grunt and yelp of pain, before security could be heard running up to the fight.

 

“Don't fuck with me, Mr. Winchester, and especially don't fuck with the ones I love,” he heard, causing his heart to lift a little as John was presumably escorted away from the room. There were some muted voices that made their way through the door, the words indecipherable. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing his doctor and Cas.

 

“Well, Dean, it looks like you're set to leave. The nurse will be here in a moment to remove the IVs safely and you'll be good to go,” he said, smiling as his hands clenched the folder in his hands. “I just recommend staying extremely hydrated for the next few days, and perhaps counseling.”

 

Dean just nodded as Cas approached the side of his bed.

 

“I'll leave you two alone,” he said, taking the folder with him as he exited the room. The door clicked closed behind him, leaving them in peace.

 

“Did you tell him I told you?”

 

“No. He doesn't know the reason, because the nurses didn't know. I simply told them you wished not to see him anymore,” Cas said, offering him a smile. “We're gunna be okay, you know that right?”

 

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I talked to Sam.”

 

“How'd that go?”

 

“Better than I could have expected. He says he's gunna come up to South Dakota,” Dean said, his lips twitching in the ghost of a smile.

 

“He's more than welcome to stay for how ever long either of you want,” Cas responded, still smiling softly. “Did you tell him who? Or just that it happened?”

 

“I told him everything,” Dean said, his hands still a little shaky from the events of the day. Cas nodded at that, his hand reaching to grab the younger man's.

 

“I'm glad you did, and I'm glad you could tell me. I can't begin to imagine what it's like, or how you feel, but I need you to know that no matter what it is, or how embarrassing it may seem, I will always be here for you to tell me. I don't care if you hate me in twenty years, if you ever find yourself with no one to talk to, I'm there.”

 

Dean sighed at that, shifting to the side of the bed, and resting his head on Cas' chest. His hand gripped the shorter man's, using it as an emotional support.

 

“What did I do to deserve you?” he mumbled against his shirt.

 

“You survived,” the older responded, kissing the top of his head. “That's all you'll need to do to keep me around.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Yeah, I promise,” he said, smiling to himself as he stood there, holding Dean's hand until the nurse came.

 


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so proud to have finished this. This is my first ever chapter fic that I have finished, and in a reasonably timely manner. I'm glad you all have taken this trip with me, and it's been as much an experience for me as I hope it's been for you. I will be working on my other fic, Royal Bloods, now, in attempts to finish that before Summer next year (it's a lot longer than this one, by far). 
> 
> Thank you all for reading! <3

“Dean, you're going to be late to work, if you don't hurry up!” Sam called, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground. Cas glanced over at him from his seat at his desk. The younger Winchester had ended up leaving college to help his brother get back on his feet. He had moved to Sioux Falls, and gotten an apartment of his own. Jessica would be joining him after she graduated.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” he heard Dean grumble from the bedroom, chuckling to himself a little.

 

“Don't sass your brother, Dean,” he called to him, hearing a scoff as the man emerged from the bedroom. The younger man had been invited back to his job at the bar, but he had kindly declined as per request of his therapist. Now, he had a part-time job at a mechanics shop about ten blocks from the house, and he loved it.

 

“He's the one who insists on driving me to work, when I could walk, or drive myself,” the Winchester mumbled as he ran his hand through his hair.

 

“He's just concerned, that's all,” Cas replied, smiling a little while focusing on his work.

 

“It's been six months, Cas. I think he can get out of our asses,” came the response.

 

“I'm just worried Dad might try some shit now that he knows where you live,” Sam said, appearing beside his brother. Both Cas and Dean looked up at the younger Winchester, their expressions similar. After they had found out what John had done, both he and Sam had done everything to ensure that Dean didn't have to deal with him again.

 

Unfortunately, there was no way to secure a restraining order, or pursue charging his father with anything as it had been too long. A few months after they had returned to Sioux Falls, John had showed up, attempting to get Dean to rescind his accusations. Cas had been the one to intervene, telling the man that if he ever stepped foot on his property again, he'd called the cops and get a restraining order.

 

That hadn't deterred their father, and he had found out where Dean worked, and had approached him at work a few times. Soon enough, they'd have enough grounds to get a restraining order on him for harassment. Cas let out a sigh as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes now focused on his boyfriend.

 

“I have a feeling that John might stay away this time,” he said, eyes running up and down the brunette's body.

 

“Why do you say that?” Sam asked, arching an eyebrow as he folded his arms over his chest.

 

“I sent him a letter. It wasn't hard to find out a majority of his information. Oh, and I talked to his old friend Bobby Singer, I believe is his name. Apparently, John wasn't quite so secretive about what he did,” Cas said, crossing his legs and setting his hands atop his knee.

 

“You blackmailed him?” Dean asked, eyebrows raised high.

 

“Roughly. Told him if he didn't want to end up in prison, he'd stay away,” the older said, grinning slightly. “I don't consider that blackmail. I consider it a promise.”

 

“Sometimes, I have to wonder if you're not really trying to take over the world from that computer,” his boyfriend muttered, shaking his head. Cas just chuckled at that as Sam started backing towards the door.

 

“You should probably go. We don't want you to ruin your opportunity with this job,” Cas said as Sam turned. He and Dean knew it was still a little uncomfortable for Sam to physically see their relationship, and they both tried to respect it.

 

The brunette offered him a smile and leaned down for a quick kiss, before heading off after Sam. Cas returned the smile, and swiveled back to his computer once the door had shut behind his boyfriend.

 

After they had gotten back from the whole ordeal in Kansas, they had found a very open-minded therapist in their area, and to say the least, he had worked wonders for Dean. In all their time together, he had never seen the younger so happy and carefree, but it was, by far, the best side of the Winchester he had seen yet.

 

The therapist hadn't recommended that Dean go to any kind of AA meetings, as it seemed therapy was all he truly needed to get him back up to take on the world. He had said that the brunette hadn't been drinking long enough for it to present a forceful problem like most alcoholics had, and since the drinking had been brought on by a high stress environment, like his compelling need to satisfy Cas, the doctor had felt as long as there was communication between them, it shouldn't occur again.

 

In the end, he was just glad that Dean had finally gotten help for himself. When they'd first gotten back to Sioux Falls, the guilt that had weighed on Cas had convinced him that the man wouldn't want to stay with him. The younger had other ideas, though, and they had spent the entire night talking about things they'd never talk about before. Dean's childhood, the good parts, though, Cas' childhood, and they had stayed up until the early hours of the morning.

 

He had never thought they'd have a night like that, but it had been more than a renewal of their relationship; it had been the beginning deeper bond between them. Cas knew he could love the other for the rest of his life, and there was next to nothing that he could do to change that. He didn't want to. The understanding that had seemingly been there for years had finally settled into a blanket of comfort for them. Even with Sam around, things seemed more intimate for them, and that had made him the happiest man alive.

 

What had been even more shocking for Cas was the fact that after a few months of therapy, Dean seemed to be more comfortable with affection. They cuddled more, and the younger even initiated kisses occasionally. The Winchester stood firm on his asexuality, but that was no dissuading factor in their relationship, in fact, it just made him love the man more.

 

Each touch or kiss was a testament of Dean's trust in him, and he took every one of them like a prize. The brunette had asked him why he stayed when they both knew he had sexual cravings, but the answer was simple and known.

 

Cas often said he had the greatest relationship in the world, but he was pretty biased in that respect. He loved Dean with everything that he was, and he could comfortably say that the other man felt the same. They both understood the other's flaws and problems, but it never inhibited who they were with each other. Sam had been the one to state it best:

 

“You guys seem really perfect for each other.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I plan to update this fic weekly so as not to overwork myself, or my lovely beta readers, because I am actually an awful writer. Lol. So I hope you all enjoy, and stay tuned for what's to come! <3


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